


Hopelessly (In Love With You)

by hitchcock_blonde



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 2nd kiss was (almost) as beautiful as the 1st, Betty loves Jughead so so so so so much, F/M, I love this ship to death, Jughead has it bad, Jughead is Betty's muse, Jughead loves Betty so so so so much, but this ship will never die, depending on your definition of bad, fluff glorious fluff, not if I can help it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 07:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitchcock_blonde/pseuds/hitchcock_blonde
Summary: “’Sides…”He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say there, and he swallowed, wondering if he should backtrack. “Isn’t this what…” Jughead choked on his words, because now he knew what he was going to say, and he really needed to backtrack, fast. Betty seemed to notice him falter—she gave him that same curious, half-exasperated, half-affectionate look she had given him when (“What? What?”) it had happened. Their…moment.As far as moments went, Jughead reflected, it wasn’t a bad one.“Y’know…”Jughead felt a surge of guilt, because Betty looked away with eyes that told him very clearly that she, too, knew what he had been about to say. It was alarming, to say the least. She glanced back at him once more, and she was alarmed too. I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, her eyes said. I’m not, he tried to say back. I’m…definitely…not. “What…people…like…us,” Jughead managed, with a sudden flash of inspiration, “who have gone through what we’ve gone through…do?”His heart clenched when Betty smiled at the ground and squeezed his hand just that much tighter.





	

“Hey,” Betty told him with playful irritation, “you didn’t have to walk me home.”

“Uh—there’s a killer on the loose,” Jughead remarked dryly, turning his head ever-so-slightly to shoot her a sideways grin. She snorted, and he sort of understood, because for some reason the moment felt so _safe,_ even though a kid was dead and this town would never be the same. So long as Betty was there, Jughead felt, he would feel safe. “’Sides…”

He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say there, and he swallowed, wondering if he should backtrack. “Isn’t this what…” Jughead choked on his words, because now he knew what he was going to say, and he really needed to backtrack, fast. Betty seemed to notice him falter—she gave him that same curious, half-exasperated, half-affectionate look she had given him when _(“What? What?”)_ it had happened. Their…moment.

As far as moments went, Jughead reflected, it wasn’t a bad one.

“Y’know…”

Jughead felt a surge of guilt, because Betty looked away with eyes that told him very clearly that she, too, knew what he had been about to say. It was alarming, to say the least. She glanced back at him once more, and she was alarmed too. _I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying,_ her eyes said. _I’m not,_ he tried to say back. _I’m…definitely…not._ “What…people…like…us,” Jughead managed, with a sudden flash of inspiration, “who have gone through what we’ve gone through…do?”

His heart clenched when Betty smiled at the ground and squeezed his hand just that much tighter.

Then she slowed suddenly, and he reacted almost instinctively—“What is it?”

Betty wet her lips, tightened her grip on his hand, and Jughead couldn’t help but wonder at how he had gotten here, in this moment, holding Betty Cooper’s hand as he walked her home and asked her what was wrong and she _told_ him.

“I mean, besides everything,” he added, if only because it would make her smile again. It did.

She shook her head slightly, though, and the smile twisted on her lips to something bitter.

“She wouldn’t have run away if it wasn’t for me, Jug,” Betty said with those same eyes he’d seen so many times.

Jughead loved her and hurt for her so fiercely in that moment, with the burdens and the guilt and the loss weighing her down but her chin up in her pastel sweater, holding his hand—it wasn’t _fair,_ he felt suddenly, wasn’t fair that someone like Betty had to go through all this shit, where someone like him got to be so goddamn _lucky,_ lucky enough to be in love with the only girl who’d ever called Jughead Jones her best friend.

“Hey,” he told her, holding her hand a little less tightly because he didn’t want her to hurt anymore, didn’t want to risk hurting her by holding on too tight. “Your _parents_ were the ones lying to her and keeping her in the dark.” Jughead’s voice softened almost involuntarily. “You did the right thing telling her the truth,” he murmured.

There was a silence. Jughead twisted his head slightly to check their surroundings and make sure they were alone. For the first time, it felt like there was a killer on the loose.

“It’s funny—“ Jughead snapped back to attention, because Betty was talking now. “This isn’t the first time Polly’s…” She glanced at him with a wry smile, and he met her halfway with one of his own, just because she was smiling. “…run away from home.”

Jughead almost laughed at that. (Polly reminded him of Betty sometimes.)

“She was nine," Betty explained, "and she and my mom got into this _huge_ fight—“ And Jughead could picture that, a little blond girl who looked like Betty screaming at Alice Cooper, with relish. “And then she disappeared for hours." It seemed like a good memory--a fond memory, from Betty's expression of not-quite-nostalgia. "The whole neighborhood was out looking for her.”

Jughead’s heart clenched, just looking at Betty’s face. He felt something beautiful in the pain in his chest. The smile was still there.

“How far did she get?” he probed.

Betty's smile dropped. Jughead couldn’t help but panic—had he said something wrong? Had he done something wrong? Was something wrong?—but then it was replaced by that wide-eyed look of almost understanding that Betty got when she was on the brink of a breakthrough. 

"What?” Jughead asked.

God, he was stupid. He hadn’t meant to be begging for a kiss with that line—he’d honestly wanted to know what she’d realized—but in hindsight, come on, he’d totally been begging for a kiss, and Betty knew it.

Her eyes sparkled as she obliged.

He melted into the kiss, feeling that it couldn’t last long enough. It was like he was experiencing a moment in someone else’s life—Archie’s, perhaps. The smile was back. He felt like he was going to choke on the buildup of emotion in his throat. If Betty hadn't pulled away, the kiss would never have ended.

“Thank you,” Betty said with so much affection, gratitude, _love_ that it hurt, “for walking me home." _And for everything else,_ her eyes said. "I’ll call you later.” Her face was gleaming with discovery. “Good night!” She turned and positively ran off, her ponytail bobbing like a lantern in her wake.

Jughead couldn’t suppress the huge dopey grin growing on his face as he watched her until she was out of sight.

He was so hopeless.


End file.
